


Blame it on the Alcohol

by scatterglory



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Denial, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatterglory/pseuds/scatterglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted on KMM for the fill "Arthur and Merlin hook up at a party (randomly and secretly), but the next day Arthur claims loudly and to anyone that he was "so wasted" at that party that he doesn't remember much past the beginning of the night. No one finds out about them, and Merlin wonders if he really WAS that drunk. It happens again, though, at another party, and this time Merlin KNOWS Arthur was not drunk, but Arthur claims the same thing. It happens several more times over the course of the year, with Arthur continuing to claim ignorance or outright denying Merlin, and...???"</p><p><b>Warnings:</b> Dub-con (due to alcohol being involved in sexual situations), intoxication (underage in US), homophobia/homophobic language</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame it on the Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : This is a transformative work of fan-love. I make no profit and claim no ownership.  
>  **AN:** This was the first fic I wrote in this marvelous fandom. I'd like to think I've improved a little since then...but I figured I'd post it for posterity's sake, if nothing else. :P Many thanks to inspired_being for the lovely beta job! :)

Merlin Emrys shut his locker with a loud bang as the shining star of all things athletic at John F. Kennedy High (called “Camelot” affectionately by its students, and disdainfully by its rivals) entered the hallway. He barely heard the noise over the pounding in his ears. _What will he do? Will he smile at me? Will he talk to me? Will he—_

He couldn't even bring himself to finish the thought. No matter what had happened (really? had that really happened?) at Gwaine's end-of-the-summer/beginning-of-senior-year beach party two days ago, it would be totally unrealistic to hope that the pride and joy of JFK High would…would…

…Would walk right by him in all his tanned, blond, and well-muscled glory, surrounded by his usual cadre of teammates, cheerleaders, and sycophants, and loudly proclaiming that although he couldn't remember a thing about Saturday night, he was pretty sure it had been epic.

Merlin felt ice water run through his veins. He sagged back into his locker, trying to bury his disappointment in a shallow grave of practicality. _Of course he was drunk. He'd never have done—that—otherwise. He doesn't even_ like _guys._

His blossoming depression was momentarily blocked by the arrival of Gwen Smith, whose smile alone had been known to make emo kids question their entire _raison d'etre._ Gwen had been Merlin's best female friend since their moms met in a Baby 'n' Me aqua aerobics class. Luckily for Merlin, not even the rather sudden rise in popularity Gwen had experienced after winning both a coveted spot on JFK High's renowned cheerleading team and the previously-unclaimed position as head cheerleader Morgana LeFay's BFF had dampened their friendship. Instead, beginning junior year, Merlin had found himself increasingly acknowledged by people who'd never noticed his existence before. Morgana herself was chief among them—Merlin felt he'd only narrowly escaped becoming one of her “projects,” but he liked her well enough. The also-popular Lance and the don’t-you-dare-call-me-popular-I’m-actually-a-rebel Gwaine had become something like his friends too; Lance back when he'd been trying to figure out how to woo Gwen (she hadn't needed it) and Gwaine because (though he would rather be rendered impotent than admit it), wherever Morgana went, there too went he.

However, despite Merlin's unanticipated admittance into certain circles of popularity, the one circle he'd never encountered directly was that of Morgana's stepbrother, Lance's teammate, Gwen's first boyfriend (“Honestly, Merlin, it doesn't count—we were _seven_ , for God's sake!”), Gwaine's favorite target for mockery, and the subject of nearly every one of Merlin's fantasies since the first day of freshman year: the Prince of Camelot himself, Arthur Pendragon.

“...'s ass is looking especially fantastic this year, don't you think?”

Merlin almost jerked completely free from Gwen's companionable armlink. “What?”

“I said, 'journalism class is looking especially fantastic this year, don't you think?'”

Merlin swallowed, and managed something like a smile. “Yeah, it should be great.”

They walked arm in arm down the hall, just making it to class before the first period bell rang.

As it turned out, Arthur was in three of Merlin's seven classes: AP Senior English, AP Biology, and AP Government and Economics. Not that the Golden Boy actually needed the AP classes to appeal to colleges—rumor had it he'd already spoken with scouts from three different sports (smart money was on football, basketball, and track). Merlin sat down behind Arthur with a fluttery feeling in his stomach—surely Arthur would smell the bonfire smoke that still clung to Merlin's hoodie; surely he'd remember…

But Arthur didn't even glance at him once. Which, really, was no different than any other year…

_Except any other year, I had no idea what his mouth tasted like, or how soft his lips really were, or how good he felt pressing me down into the sand—_

Merlin cut that train of thought off abruptly as the English teacher, Mr. Monmouth, came into the room. He sat up straight and tried to pay attention, but going over the syllabus in minute detail was nowhere near as interesting as remembering the smell of smoke and alcohol and salt water and Arthur.

* * *

The first Saturday in November found Merlin swirling the drink in his red plastic cup dejectedly. He really wasn't a crazy partier; Gwaine's now-infamous beach party aside, he was much more comfortable in small gatherings than at massive beerfests. But Gwen's 18th birthday only happened once in a lifetime and the fact that her father was away on business meant…well, it meant Lance was spinning a laughing Gwen through the dining room; Gwaine and Morgana were fighting—kissing?—nope, he was right the first time—in the kitchen; Merlin's other best friend, Will, was striking out with Morgause (again) on the front porch; Freya and their other friends from journalism class were smoking on the back porch; the cheerleaders were dancing with each other in the living room; and half of the athletic department was playing beer pong in the hall.

Abandoning his lackluster drink with a sigh, Merlin wandered to the empty upstairs to escape the noise, the brightness and the _party_ in general. He paused outside the bathroom across from Gwen's room, and swayed slightly. That drink must have been stronger than he thought. He caught hold of the door frame to keep his balance and leaned slightly towards the closed door...

...which swung open suddenly. Light spilled into the dark hallway and Merlin squinted up at—

Arthur.

Who was staring at him with a slight scowl as Merlin effectively blocked his exit.

“Oh—uh—”

Merlin scrambled backwards, somehow managed to catch his heel on the edge of the carpet, and crashed into the opposite wall. He slid down to the floor, dazed, not registering what was happening until strong hands gripped his arms, pulled him to his feet and pressed his back against the wall.

“Th-thanks—” Merlin stammered as he looked into Arthur's clear blue eyes. Arthur's face was expressionless, studying him. Merlin felt his mouth go dry as heat pooled in his belly. He licked his lips nervously.

Arthur's eyes flickered to his mouth. Merlin was suddenly aware of how close they were. His cock jumped eagerly, stirred by memories of rough kisses in the sand. He opened his mouth to say something—anything!—that would break the tension—

Before Merlin knew what was happening, Arthur grabbed his wrists and pinned them against the wall over his head. Merlin gasped as Arthur leaned into him; taking advantage of Merlin’s shock, Arthur slid his tongue between Merlin’s parted lips and shoved one knee up between his legs.

Merlin moaned into Arthur's mouth, unable to do anything but arch up against him blindly. Arthur thrust against him again and Merlin's knees buckled. Arthur wrapped an arm around Merlin's waist, pulling him back up and holding him in place as he ground their hips together. Then Arthur's mouth moved from Merlin's lips to his neck, and Merlin came with a cry. Arthur followed suit, moaning into Merlin's collarbone and leaving them both trembling and panting. They stayed frozen, Merlin leaning on the wall like it was the only solid thing the in the world, Arthur pressing his mouth into the side of Merlin's neck.

Then the noise of the party below, which had been muted in their ears during their exertion, reasserted itself. A wave of laughter rose and Merlin felt Arthur flinch. He pulled back abruptly, eyes on the floor, and staggered to the top of the stairs. Without another look, he hurried down the stairs and back to the party, leaving Merlin alone in the hall.

* * *

On Monday, the whole school was talking about the party and how Arthur was an absolute _baller_ because even though he was _completely wasted_ for the _whole party_ and didn't remember it _at all_ , he still managed to get the new cheerleader, Sophia, to give him a lap-dance in front of, like, _everyone_ and it was _totally hot._

Merlin clenched his fists and stayed silent, remembering the only taste of alcohol in their kisses had been from _his_ drink.

* * *

Even if Merlin hadn't found himself staring at Arthur more than ever before in the following weeks, it would have been impossible to miss how he and Sophia were apparently attached at the mouth. Fortunately, she wasn't in any of the classes they shared, so he was spared the sight of their passion for most of the day. But before school, after school, in the halls, during lunch…It was like a three-car pile up—looking made him sick, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Not even when Arthur caught him staring from over Sophia's shoulder and didn't break eye contact as she explored every inch of his mouth.

When not in Arthur's immediate vicinity and therefore free from paralyzing lust, Merlin felt angry, used and obvious, while holding on to the weak hope no one had noticed his fixation. As the weeks passed, it got easier to look away or to not look in the first place. Even when it felt like Arthur was going out of his way to be as public as possible. Even when Arthur and Sophia were everywhere that Merlin went. Even when Arthur's eyes met Merlin's just infrequently enough to pass for accidental.

A week before end of fall semester, Merlin went to the library after school to wrap up his final paper for English. The halls seemed empty when he returned to his locker to grab his jacket…until a rough hand grabbed the back of his shirt, slamming him around into the lockers.

“Forget your fairy dust?”

He looked up into the sneering face of Val, linebacker and asshole extraordinaire, and winced.

“Leave me alone,” he gritted out.

Val laughed, ugly and mean, slamming him against the lockers again. “Or what? You'll scream like a little girl?”

“Val, back off,” came a bored voice. Over Val's shoulder, Merlin saw Arthur eyeing them disinterestedly as Sophia hung off his shoulder.

Val laughed. “You should thank me, man. Little queer's been stalking you for weeks.”

Arthur sighed. “If you get in trouble again, you know you'll be off the team,” he said in the same bored tone.

Val's face darkened briefly. Then, with final slam for good measure, he released Merlin and stepped back to make a friendly but firm punch to Arthur's free shoulder. “Yeah, you girls aren't anything without me, right?” he grinned.

Arthur's mouth twitched, more of a grimace than a smile, but he didn't contradict his teammate. “Let's go,” he said flatly.

They headed down the hall, Sophia cooing over how Arthur was “so sweet to put the good of the team above everything else” as Merlin sank to the floor, cheeks burning, and almost (but not quite) missed the unreadable glance Arthur shot at him as the trio turned the corner.

* * *

Near the end of winter break, a surly Merlin found himself being manhandled by an unyielding Gwen as she forced him to accompany her up a long driveway. “I don't know why I agreed to this,” he complained as the Pendragon estate stretched out before them in all its sprawling glory.

“Come on, it'll be fun. I _promise_ ,” Gwen stated firmly, her grip not loosening one little bit. “Lance and Gwaine are already there and Will said he'd be here by 11, at the latest.”

Merlin sighed. “I _hate_ New Year's Eve parties,” he groused. _Especially ones where I know Arthur and Sophia will be all over each other._

Gwen dimpled at him. “You always say that. But who knows? Maybe you'll actually get lucky this year.” She winked at him suggestively and Merlin scowled. _Fat chance._

Lance met them at the door, thereby proving that he either had an uncanny ability to sense Gwen's presence, or had been hovering in the hall since the party started. Merlin gave it even odds. Gwen accepted his arm, without letting go of Merlin, and the three of them trooped into the party.

And, okay, Merlin had to admit that it was a pretty good party, all things considered. Morgana had really outdone herself—Uther, her stepfather and Arthur's father, was out of town, taking the corporate world by storm or something, and her philosophy was apparently that what he didn't know, couldn't hurt her. As an added bonus, Arthur and Sophia were nowhere to be seen and Merlin was actually starting to relax and enjoy himself. He was in the kitchen, about to ruin very expensive vodka with very cheap orange juice when—

“Emrys.” Arthur stood next to him, elbow to elbow, his tone bland as he reached for the gin.

“Pendragon,” Merlin replied in the same tone.

“Enjoying yourself?” Arthur inquired, not sounding like he cared much one way or the other.

Merlin turned towards him, their faces only inches apart. “I _was_ ,” he said as cuttingly as he could manage.

Arthur blinked, surprised, and opened his mouth, but Merlin cut him off.

“Where's Sophia?” he asked with false concern.

Arthur's face went blank. “We broke up,” he said in a neutral tone. Merlin's surprise must have shown on his face because Arthur shrugged and ducked his head. “Last week. No big deal.” He looked up again, catching Merlin's eye. “But it kind of sucks to be single on New Year's Eve, you know?”

Before Merlin could really register what had just happened, Arthur turned and left the kitchen.

* * *

Merlin existed in a state of confusion for the next couple hours—Arthur didn't approach him again, but it seemed like no matter what room Merlin found himself in, Arthur was there. Merlin would have chocked it up to his hyper-awareness of all things Arthur, except Arthur kept glancing at him when no one else was looking, holding his gaze longer than was necessary, and then looking pointedly away. It was driving Merlin up the fucking _wall._

At five minutes to midnight, everyone clustered around the massive flat-screen TV in the family room, champagne flutes at the ready. Nerves frazzled almost beyond bearing, Merlin was tempted just to down his and screw the toast; he was on the outskirts of the group, so no one would be the wiser. He had just started to raise the glass to his lips when a hand caught his wrist.

“Jumping the gun a bit, aren't we?” Arthur sounded amused.

Merlin froze, speechless—the intimacy in Arthur's tone, the _touch_. Arthur hadn't even come close to touching him since that night at Gwen's.

Ignoring Merlin's reaction, Arthur pulled him out of the room and into the hall. “Come on,” he murmured. “It's too crowded in there, anyway.”

Every nerve in his body singing, Merlin let Arthur pull him down the hall, up the stairs and into a dark room. Arthur let go of Merlin's wrist to flip on the light, revealing what was either the display model of a Hilton executive suite, or one of the— no doubt— many guest rooms in the Pendragon mansion.

Arthur shut the door quietly and Merlin heard a click as the lock fell into place. His heart pounding in his chest, he didn't move as Arthur crossed the room to switch on the (also flat-screen) TV. Then, as Times Square flickered in the background, Arthur moved until they were standing face to face, close enough to touch.

Arthur lifted his glass as the countdown started, eyes locked on Merlin. When cries of “Happy New Year!” echoed from both the TV and the party below, Merlin automatically took a sip of his champagne. He almost choked as Arthur drained his glass completely, the muscles of his throat flexing as he swallowed, before dropping the empty glass onto the thick carpet. Then, a determined look on his face, Arthur stepped completely into Merlin's space, placed one hand on Merlin's waist, one on the back of his neck, and kissed him.

Merlin dropped his glass. He felt champagne splash his leg and made an abortive move to pick up the glass. Arthur’s grip tightened—“Leave it,” he murmured against Merlin’s mouth. Then Arthur pulled away slightly, leaving his hands on Merlin's waist and neck. Arthur's expression was serious, almost questioning, as he studied Merlin's face. After a moment, he moved in again, this time pulling Merlin towards him gently and running his tongue over Merlin's still-closed lips. With a soft moan, Merlin let his body melt into Arthur's arms and opened his mouth. Arthur's tongue met his hesitantly, then more eagerly, but still with such gentleness that Merlin gasped. His hands grasped Arthur's waist for support as they rocked together silently, Auld Lang Syne playing softly in the background.

Then Arthur's hands moved, dropping to clasp low around Merlin's back. One hand slowly explored underneath Merlin's shirt, reaching up to the waistband of his jeans before brushing teasingly across the sensitive skin of his lower back. Merlin moaned into Arthur's mouth as the hand traced along his waistband to his front and rubbed slow circles on his stomach. Then both of Arthur's hands caught Merlin's shirt and drew it up, over his head, onto the floor. Arthur stared at Merlin's chest for a moment, before removing his own shirt in one fluid move. Then they were kissing again, this time skin to skin, Merlin feeling as though every inch of him were on fire.

After several endless moments, Arthur pushed against him and Merlin stumbled backwards, collapsing onto the bed. Arthur didn't stop, pushing him backwards and along the bed until Merlin was fully stretched out. Arthur settled in on top of him, between his legs, heavy and hot and perfect. Merlin ran his hands up and down Arthur's back, then grabbed his ass and pulled Arthur down onto him roughly. Arthur cursed into Merlin's mouth as their erections ground together, separated only by their jeans.

Arthur lifted himself onto his arms, ignoring Merlin's gasp of protest. Before Merlin could voice his objection more overtly, however, Arthur was unzipping his jeans, his fingers brushing over Merlin's aching cock as he pulled Merlin's jeans and boxers down over his hips. Merlin held his breath, watching with wide eyes as Arthur reached out slowly, ever so slowly, and hesitantly ran his finger along Merlin's length.

“God!” Merlin fell back against the bed as Arthur, growing more confident, wrapped his hand around Merlin's cock and pulled. When he stopped after only a few strokes, Merlin tried to raise his head again, only to collapse once more as Arthur awkwardly—perfectly!—took him into his mouth. Arthur's tongue explored the underside of his cock and Merlin had to bite his lip to keep from thrusting up into the warm heat of Arthur's mouth. He felt his body tensing, felt the pressure building—

“Stop!” he choked out hoarsely. Arthur released him with a wet popping sound, looking confused. “I don't—I don't want to—not yet—“ Merlin gasped out.

Arthur's expression softened as he moved up along Merlin, covering him again. He hovered over Merlin's mouth and brushed the hair off of his forehead. “What do you want, then?” he whispered.

Merlin closed his eyes. _Because it's New Year's, because this might be my only chance, because I’ve wanted you for_ years, _dammit_ —“I want you to…fuck me,” he gasped.

Arthur went completely still, and Merlin's blood froze. _Shit, I ruined it, he's going to freak out and leave and—_

Then Arthur kissed him again, gently. “I've…never done that before,” he whispered uncertainly.

Merlin's heart leaped in his chest. “It's okay, I have, I'll show you,” he babbled, his hand grasped ineffectively down at his jeans. Arthur pushed up and backwards again before efficiently pulling off Merlin's shoes, socks and jeans.

“Pocket. Condom,” Merlin managed, pathetically grateful that he'd listened to that desperate little voice, _“Just in case,”_ as he'd headed out the door earlier. Arthur just tossed Merlin his jeans, leaving him to remove the small square of foil and plastic as Arthur hurried to strip off the rest of his own clothes as well. With trembling fingers, Merlin opened the condom wrapper.

“No, let—let me,” he said when Arthur reached for it. Arthur dropped his hand and sat back on his heels uncertainly. Merlin sat up and rolled the slippery condom onto Arthur's cock, which twitched underneath his fingers. Then Merlin laid back down, pulling Arthur forward and wrapping his legs loosely around Arthur’s hips.

“It's okay,” Merlin said again. “Just go slow.”

Arthur nodded, visibly rallying himself, trembling as Merlin guided him to his entrance. Merlin closed his eyes briefly— _this will probably hurt_ —before whispering, “Okay.”

Arthur's first thrust was barely enough to breach him, which was good—it had been too long and the pain was enough to make him gasp. His eyes locked on Arthur's face and he could see the worry reflected there.

“It's okay, it's okay,” he whispered hurriedly. “Keep going.”

Merlin forced himself to relax, to breathe, as Arthur slowly pushed deeper and deeper inside him. Then he was all the way in and he shuddered into Merlin's neck. “Oh, my _God_ ,” he moaned.

“Y—yeah,” Merlin agreed weakly. It was almost too much—Arthur filled him, covered him, pressed him down into the bed. He wanted to stay like this forever, never moving, never feeling anything but this—

And then Arthur moved. Slowly at first, then more quickly, he thrust into Merlin again and again. Merlin gasped and moaned, moving his hips until Arthur was hitting that warm, perfect spot inside of him over and over and over—

Merlin cried out when he came, his whole body convulsing and clenching around Arthur. Arthur came a moment later with a choking sound, burying his face in Merlin's neck and shuddering against him. They lay there, spent but still joined together, wrapped in and around each other as the night air cooled their bodies.

Finally Arthur pulled away, rolling onto his side next to Merlin. His eyes still shut, he removed the condom and tied off the end before dropping it over the side of the bed.

Merlin giggled. “Gross.”

“Shut up. I'll get it in the morning,” Arthur sighed. He rolled over and pulled Merlin’s back up against his chest, body already relaxing into sleep. Merlin drifted off in a matter of moments, Arthur's arm around his waist and breath on the back of his neck.

* * *

When Merlin awoke the next morning, the sun was streaming in through the window and the other side of the bed was cold. The events of the past night crashed over him like a wave, leaving him with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He lay still for a moment before remembering something and crawling to the edge of the bed.

The condom and champagne glasses were gone. _“I'll get it in the morning.”_ Maybe Arthur was just an early riser. Feeling hope swell in his chest, Merlin managed to find his clothes and get dressed without too much trouble. Retracing their steps, he made his way back downstairs and heard voices coming from the kitchen.

“Really, Arthur,” Morgana said in a disapproving tone. “You blacked out _again? That's_ why you missed the toast?”

A low voice—Arthur—mumbled something and Merlin's heart sank.

“Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure it's called 'alcoholism' once you're out of college,” Morgana replied. “And at the rate you’re going, I doubt you’ll even make it that long.”

Merlin left the house without a sound.

* * *

The dumpster behind the automotive lab wasn’t the most pleasant place on campus (visually or aromatically), but Merlin had a hard time caring about that in light of the things Cedric was busy doing with his tongue. Merlin clutched uselessly at the brick wall of the building behind him, trying to keep from crying out. The stoners who usually camped out behind the lab were gone for the day, but he didn’t want to give anyone else a reason to come snooping around.

Merlin screwed his eyes shut, trying in vain to picture anything other than where he was at that moment. Cedric wasn’t a horrible person—in fact, he was the only other "out" gay guy on campus— and he’d been leering at Merlin since they met sophomore year. Merlin had never been anything but vaguely flattered and extremely uncomfortable about the whole thing. He would never have dreamed of doing anything with Cedric, but…

Arthur and Sophia were back together— _“He came over on New Year’s Day to apologize. I just_ couldn’t _refuse those big blue eyes”_ —and Arthur had once again caught his eye while kissing her.

And Arthur had fucked him on New Year’s Eve.

Arthur’s face swam before his eyes when he came, appearing so vividly that when he opened his eyes he thought it was Arthur kneeling before him, a thin line of cum stretched across his cheek. Then the vision faded and Cedric grinned up at him. Merlin thought he was going to be sick.

* * *

Merlin’s protective shield of self-disgust collapsed when confronted with Arthur-and-Sophia the next day. As a result, the incident behind the automotive lab was joined by a hurried hand job in the journalism room, rubbing off on each other in the empty auditorium, another blow-job behind the bleachers…and all of a sudden, without Merlin even realizing what was going on, he and Cedric were sitting together at lunch, hanging out after school and making out lazily on Merlin’s bed before his mom came home from work. If sometimes Merlin’s stomach roiled when Cedric went down on him or his laughter at Cedric’s jokes was a bit strained or he had to determinedly ignore the disappointed looks he got from Gwen, Morgana, Lance and even Gwaine, it was totally worth it.

Totally.

It was especially worth it when Cedric’s hand on his stomach pinned him to the wall of the men’s locker room while his mouth worked Merlin over with agonizing slowness. Cedric had wanted to “add a little rainbow to the dank man-cave.” So they’d stayed after school on one of the few days no men’s team was practicing. Merlin had been reluctant, but he usually gave into Cedric due to some gnawing sense of guilt he staunchly refused to examine.

“Oh God,” he moaned as Cedric did _that thing_ with his tongue, his hips jerking forward automatically. Cedric hummed, pleased; he always wanted Merlin to be just a little rougher, just a little less controlled, but Merlin couldn’t…couldn’t…

“Shit,” he gasped with feeling, as Cedric took him all the way down and grabbed his hips. Merlin’s hands scrabbled on the wall as Cedric forced Merlin to fuck his throat. Merlin didn’t resist, ignoring the tiny voice inside his head— _wrong, wrong, this is wrong, this isn’t what you want, what the fuck are you doing?_ —until he shuddered to a white-hot release in Cedric’s mouth. Cedric swallowed him down, holding him till he was finished, before rocking back on his heels.

Merlin opened his eyes with a weak smile—

And saw Arthur, flushed and sweaty from a workout, staring at them with open-mouthed horror. Merlin felt his entire body go numb as his mouth worked wordlessly.

Cedric, noting Merlin’s reaction, pivoted around and smirked up at Arthur. “Hey hot stuff, wanna get in on this?” he purred.

Arthur fled without a word.

* * *

It was the last Sunday of spring break and Cedric was tracing delicate circles on Merlin’s back as they lay on Merlin’s bed.

“You really missed out last night,” Cedric pouted. “Everyone was there. I was surprised, actually; it looked like he’d invited the whole school, not just the popular kids.”

Merlin scrunched his eyes up tight, and turned his head to face the wall. “I’m not much of a partier,” he said in a tight voice.

“I know…but Pendragon knows how to have fun, especially for his birthday. I heard this one was even better than New Year’s Eve!”

“Arthur didn’t throw a New Year’s Eve party. _That_ was all Morgana,” Merlin corrected. He could almost sense Cedric’s eyeroll.

“Whatever. You totally suck for leaving me to be the token queer all by myself.” He pressed up against Merlin’s side. “What’re you going to do to make it up to me?”

When Merlin didn’t respond, Cedric nudged him. “Hey, come on, I didn’t mean it…you don’t really suck. Don’t be mad at me.”

A wave of guilt washed over Merlin. “Cedric—” he began, but stopped. Cedric’s hand stilled and Merlin knew with sudden clarity that Cedric had been waiting for this conversation as much as he had. He rolled onto his side and opened his eyes, searching Cedric’s face.

“I can’t do this any more,” he said quietly and braced himself for Cedric’s reaction.

Cedric smiled sadly, before running his fingers across Merlin’s lips. “I know,” he said, matching Merlin’s tone. He took his hand away. “It’s Pendragon, isn’t it?” he asked without heat.

Merlin flinched and nodded, looking away.

Cedric snorted. “Good luck with that.” Then he caught Merlin’s chin and looked into his eyes with a bittersweet smile. “Seriously, though, if anyone could flip him, it’d be you.”

Merlin managed a small smile, not sure what to say. He didn’t pull away when Cedric kissed him for the last time and he didn’t get up when Cedric saw himself out of the room.

* * *

Merlin hadn’t been the subject of the school rumor mill since he first came out, but it felt like it was going into overdrive when he and Cedric were most obviously not together the next day. He pointedly ignored the twin looks of relief on Gwen and Morgana’s faces and felt vaguely uncomfortable when Lance looked him over thoughtfully. He barely escaped with his sanity intact after being cornered by Gwaine, who offered to be his wingman for the purpose of “scoring some mad rebound gay sex action, but only if you tell all the hot chicks in school that I’m hetero-flexible because they eat that shit up…hey man, wanna be a friend and get caught making out after school?”

He ended up hiding in the journalism room, in the company of the quietly sympathetic Freya, for the better part of the day. When Freya left to go to a class she couldn’t afford to miss, he was left blissfully alone.

Until Arthur found him.

“Hey,” he said, uncertainly, standing in the doorway.

Merlin started at the sound of his voice, but schooled his features into a bland mask before looking up from the layout he’d spread across the desk. “What do you want?” he asked neutrally.

Taking the acknowledgment for permission to enter, Arthur stepped into the room. “So, um,” he began hesitantly. “Did you…have a good spring break?”

“Yeah, it was fine. You?”

“Um, yeah, it was good. I had this big party and…”

“I heard.”

Arthur looked at him, a strange expression on his face. “I told Morgana to invite you.”

“She did.”

Arthur’s face fell. “Oh.”

Merlin felt a twinge of guilt, but couldn’t help himself. “I’m really not much of a partier. Cedric said it was great, though.”

A shadow passed across Arthur’s expression. “Yeah.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Merlin bit his lip to avoid breaking it and Arthur swallowed. “So, uh, you and Cedric, are you guys, like…”

“We broke up,” Merlin said, “Last week. No big deal.”

Arthur flinched at the sound of his own words being thrown back at him. “Oh. I, um, I’m sorry to hear that…”

“Why are you here?” Merlin asked bluntly.

Arthur seemed to rally himself and looked Merlin in the eye. “Some of the guys wanted to hit up the movies tomorrow after school and I thought…maybe you’d want to come with us?”

Merlin blinked in surprise. “Go to the movies. Tomorrow. With you and…the guys?”

Arthur nodded.

“And Sophia?”

Arthur dropped his gaze. “Well yeah, she’s my girlfriend so she’ll probably come too…”

Merlin cut him off. “So, go to the movie with you and your friends. As a friend.”

“Yeah.”

Merlin closed his eyes briefly. “No,” he said out loud when he opened them again, his voice only shaking a little.

Arthur looked at him, confused. Merlin took a deep breath.

“I have absolutely no interest in being your _friend_ ,” he stated. Arthur stiffened. Merlin continued. “There is no way I’m going to sit next to you...in a dark theater…as a fucking _friend._ ”

Arthur’s blue eyes were wide, fixed on his. Merlin took a step forward. “I’m not some sort of ‘drunken’ experiment, Arthur,” he air-quoted.

Arthur flinched. “I can’t—”

Merlin took Arthur’s face in both his hands and Arthur fell silent. “I know,” Merlin said softly. “I’ve been there.” Then he kissed Arthur gently, brushing his tongue across Arthur’s lips. Arthur leaned into the kiss, but Merlin pushed him back. “I can’t do this, Arthur,” he said sadly. “I’m done.”

He left without giving himself time to fully register the look of pain on Arthur’s face. He made it almost all the way off of school property before he threw up.

* * *

Merlin didn’t care what Gwen or his mother said, he would never, ever feel comfortable in a tux. But here he was, ridiculous shoes and all, coerced into attending the senior prom by the unfair application of feminine wiles.

“This isn’t even fair,” he’d protested as Freya had pinned on his boutonniere. “I’m gay, you shouldn’t be able to—”

“Oh, shut up,” she’d responded good-naturedly. “You’re just being a good friend, that’s all.”

“Yeah. I’m a good friend. I’m an _awesome_ friend,” he said petulantly.

Freya poked him in the ribs, then favored him with a sweet, genuine smile. “I really do appreciate this, you know,” she said shyly.

Merlin relented and gave her a one-armed hug. “I know. I hope you hold this against your oh-so-wonderful college boyfriend when he gets back from studying abroad. Seriously, he’d better make it up to you big-time.”

Freya giggled and kissed his cheek. “Oh, I’ll make sure he does. Plus, your friend Lance would never forgive you for missing the prom he helped organize. Come on, the limo will be here at 6. We’d better finish getting ready.”

* * *

Merlin looked at the drink table ambivalently. “How much of it has been spiked, do you think?” he stage-whispered to Freya. Looking at him shiftily, she produced a plastic flask from somewhere in her skirt.

“Most of it, I’d say,” she said with a wicked grin. Merlin poked her with mock-disapproval.

“Freya, you little _monster_! How can so much evil fit in such a small package?”

She giggled. “Well, how else are we supposed to make it through the prom court coronation without throwing up?”

Merlin forced a laugh, but his stomach clenched. Arthur was a prime candidate for prom king, naturally, and Morgana was the favorite for prom queen. Since that day in the journalism classroom, Arthur had avoided him. Merlin hadn’t been surprised and had tried not to be hurt either. He’d been the one to end their…whatever it was, after all. But that didn’t make things any easier.

There was a murmur as more couples arrived and Freya nudged him in the ribs. “Ooo, look at that!”

Merlin glanced up to see a red-faced Val escorting a simpering Sophia into the dance. His eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. “When did _that_ happen?”

Freya shrugged. “Earlier this week, I think.” She smirked at him. “I heard she dumped Arthur because he wouldn’t put out.”

Merlin felt himself blushing. “Then who is Arthur—”

“Speak of the devil,” Freya interrupted.

Arthur entered the room with some third-rate cheerleader hanging off his arm, his face a mask of forced pleasantness. Freya laughed. “Who even knows who that girl is? Oh, how the mighty have fallen!”

Unable to respond coherently, Merlin excused himself and sought refuge in the men’s room. Splashing cold water on his face, he tried to calm himself down. _Why is that a surprise? Just because he’s not with Sophia doesn’t mean he would want to be with…it doesn’t matter. I’ll just go back in there and hang out with Freya and everything will be over soon._

* * *

Merlin managed to have a little fun, at least. There were enough people there that he was able to completely avoid any more glimpses of Arthur and Freya was fun to dance with. Gwen and Lance were too gorgeous for words, as usual, and Will had apparently worn down Morgause’s resistance enough for her to agree to be his date.

“Isn’t she the hottest thing ever?” he crowed to Merlin while she was terrorizing the DJ into playing her favorite song. Merlin nodded; it was pretty impressive, if humbling, how much better she looked in a tux than either of them.

The most thrilling part of the night, however, was when Gwaine and Morgana arrived together. Merlin grinned—he’d hoped they’d work themselves out in time for prom. As much as they both hated to admit it, they were good for each other—Gwaine needed a girlfriend who wouldn’t take his shit and Morgana needed a boyfriend who could stand up to her. Although judging by the bemused and slightly giddy expression on Gwaine’s face, and the smug one on Morgana’s, Merlin got the impression their dynamic was not quite as balanced as he’d hoped it would be.

They all danced, talked, laughed and drank as the night passed them by. Merlin avoided the punch, sticking to bottled water and soda, while resisting Freya’s increasingly conspicuous attempts to ply him with the contents of her illicit flask. He had just managed to fend her off again when the music ended and the prom committee took the stage to announce the prom king and queen voting results.

Freya and Merlin stood in the back by the snack table, both morbidly curious to hear the results but not wanting to admit it. When Arthur and Morgana were crowned, no one was surprised but everyone cheered and Merlin turned around to examine the picked-over meat and cheese trays with deep interest as Arthur and Morgana thanked everyone who voted for them.

“...but since we’re, you know, brother and sister, we thought we’d forgo the traditional king-and-queen dance,” Morgana was saying laughingly. “So if the DJ—”

“Actually, if you don’t mind,” Arthur cut in, “could I get the spotlight for a minute?”

Merlin heard the crowd murmur and could almost picture the scene that was surely taking place. Arthur would have hopped down off the stage and strode confidently over to Sophia, taking her in his arms and winning her back from Val with murmured promises and a passionate kiss—

“Excuse me.” A hand landed on his shoulde, and Merlin whirled around. Right in front of him, standing in the spotlight that now illuminated them both, stood Arthur. Arthur smiled ruefully, stepping forward until they were almost touching. Reaching out, he gripped Merlin’s jacket and pulled Merlin into his arms.

“I’m not drunk,” he whispered. “Or experimenting.”

Then, with everyone’s eyes on them, he dipped Merlin low and kissed him.

Merlin heard a loud whoop— _Gwaine_ —and grinned into the kiss as his friends applauded around them.

“Best prom _ever_ ,” Freya breathed.

* * *

No one woke up before noon. Morgana reminded herself to do something particularly nice for Uther when he returned—having the foresight to schedule a business trip that included the day after prom definitely put him in the running for the Best Stepfather Ever award. It might even be worth a week of her agreeing with him without argument, she considered as she perched on Gwaine’s lap.

Lance and Gwen were bent over the stove, having offered to cook post-prom breakfast in return for being given the use of a spare room in the Pendragon manor. Minutes after entering the kitchen, Morgana and Gwaine had been relegated to the status of Observers and Consumers due to the fact of “Oh my God, if you guys can’t focus on something other than each other for five minutes, _all the pancakes will burn._ ” This suited Morgana just fine, because apparently keeping Gwaine in suspense until prom night had been An Excellent Life Choice.

“Sooo…no one’s seen the lovebirds yet?” she inquired as Gwaine explored her neck.

Gwen and Lance shook their heads. Morgana didn’t bother with Gwaine (if her calculations were correct, he wouldn’t really notice anything but her for at least the next 36 hours or so). She grinned. "Excellent. Not sure I could handle the shock. It does explain a lot, though."

"Like why Merlin's been so mopey all year," Gwen agreed.

"And why Arthur was all over Sophia," Lance put in. "She never really struck me as his type."

He slid a possessive arm around Gwen's waist and she whacked him with her spatula. "We were _seven!_ "

"I gave him a lot of shit for Sophia," Morgana said disapprovingly. "And now I know why he was being such an asshole and what it made Merlin do, I'm gonna give him even more."

Gwen looked over her shoulder. "You mean, Cedric?"

Morgana nodded. "Thank God _that_ got resolved. I hear he's dating some drag queen over at the community college."

Gwaine grinned against her neck. "Good for him. He couldn't compete, anyway. I mean, come on now, 'Merlin' and 'Arthur'? It's like... _destiny_ , or something."

Morgana hmm’d in approval as Gwaine’s hands got a bit more creative. “I think so, too…but I hope Merlin hasn’t actually forgiven my darling stepbrother yet.”

Eyes wide with disbelief, both Gwen and Lance turned to her for clarification.

She obliged with a wicked grin. “What I mean is…I just hope Merlin’s making him _pay_ for it now.”

And he was.

 

**The End**


End file.
